Choosing Him and Then
by lingerintheshadows
Summary: The Dark Lord succeeded, leaving countless deaths from the people of light. Hermione was given a choice: it was to be with her love or resurrect the very hope of the wizarding world. Then, she chose him. But, there was a problem. HE forgot about HER and MAGIC. The former 'REVIVE'.
1. Chapter 1

CHOOSING HIM AND THEN

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. You know that and I know that also. Thanks.**

**(A/N: WARNING: **_**A lot**_** of characters will die. *Movie-based. This is the same 'Revive' before with little changes. I rewrote this story and joined the 2****nd****, 3****rd**** and 4****th**** chapters 'cause I want to correct my wrong character description for Hermione and also, I am not contented on my own writing style, and I want to reduce the chapters to 10 only. Thank you for understanding and sorry for my errors.)**

oooooooo0000000oooooooo

**PROLOGUE**

A pair of grey eyes scanned the ruins and continuing battle of Hogwarts. He watched them carefully, making decision that would probably change everyone's fate.

_Lucius Malfoy._

A solid Slytherin. A Death Eater. One of Voldemort's servants. A faithful husband to Narcissa and a father to Draco. He may be all of them but on that time, he couldn't be. His loyalty to Voldemort had been stained by unfaithfulness but his heart to his family was doubtless.

He thought deeply, that deep he wasn't certain if he could rise from the bottom with a definite answer. He knew that his decision would write his future and his family's. He pledged to be a loyal servant just to make sure of his family's safety. He shouldn't risk their necks for the sake of bravery and novelty. That was for the Gryffindors. They were destined to die. And as for Malfoys, they were luckily sorted as Slytherins. And people like them were destined to be safe and well.

Ridiculous.

He hated to be trapped in between sides. It was as if he fell to a hole of nowhere. There was no end but danger and nothing but danger. He should escape and prevent himself from falling. That was the safest way. But what was he feeling? There was something in the pit of his stomach. It was something unexplainable which a serpent, like him, should never feel – _The urge to fight_. He wanted to join the battle of wizards with opposing sides: dark and light, the one was with Voldemort and the other was with The-Boy-Who-Lived.

They were losing. It was the bitter fact that he couldn't accept. Lord Voldemort had promised them a success. He had a plan. It was a certain plan that the Potter boy would fail. They would break the prophecy because Lord Voldemort was fate, himself. He was the destiny. But… he was falling. The dark was being dominated by light.

It was time for Lucius to turn his back.

He should turn his back with his family.

.

.

.

But he didn't.

**oooooooo0000000oooooooo**

_Nagini._

A cold-blooded living thing crawled on the floor of the ruined castle, eyes on its hosts and ready to attack. It had the speed and strength greater than its kind. It was cunning and evil familiar to its master. Nagini had the Dark Lord's soul. It was part of his life. A horcrux.

Having the heart of a lion, the redhead Weasley covered his brown-haired woman to protect her from the said venomous snake. They were hopelessly and unwillingly sitting on the floor. They were trapped between the attacking Nagini and the broken wall behind them. There was no escape. It must be their end.

_Neville Longbottom._

Gripping the sword of his House, the same one which was formerly possessed by Godric Gryffindor, Neville faced his fate. He was no more a boy living in the shadows. He was no more a boy of retarded parents but a boy of a hero family, standing with pride.

It was time to fulfill his destiny. He lifted the shimmering metal towards the horcrux. He was the one to end the immortality of the Dark Lord…

_But it seemed that a second turned to eternity. The time stopped, recording every moment of the battle._

Neville could end it. With just one hit of the Gryffindor sword, Voldemort would be mortal…

Just one hit.

Just one hit.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

An unexpected green light entered the scene. No one knew that one man's bravery could cause massive tragedies.

_Ronald Weasley._

The redhead watched a brave Gryffindor fell to the ground, dropping the metal weapon. Neville lied dead on the cold floor of the ruined Hogwarts, eyes opened as if he, himself, didn't expect the nearing death casted by a white blonde Slytherin. His murderer? A Death Eater named Lucius Malfoy.

The Head Malfoy grinned to his success. He had just saved Nagini from its certain death. Therefore, he saved his very lord. He saved Voldemort. He felt something in his heart – the burning feeling of triumph. Yes, they would win. Lord Voldemort would never fail.

Ron's hope went to neverland. There was nothing he could do. 'What is happening?' He saw the serpent moved to attack. They were the target. He and his love.

Ron summoned all his strength and hugged Hermione. He closed his eyes tightly, for him to not see his nearing fate same as Neville. He whispered to the brightest witch, "I love you, Hermione. I really do." He felt her tensed, gasping for air. She was crying. Then, he found himself doing the same. Fate was really cruel. He had just confessed to her and yet there they were, at the edge of their dear lives. But he was blessed still. He had her.

_Hermione Granger._

"I love you, Hermione. I really do."

Simple words but meant a single goodbye to her. She had feared that day. Being an intelligent witch, she had expected so many possibilities. She could lose the ones who were important to her, the ones who had molded herself, the ones who she claimed to be her friends, best friend, and lover. But in the end, the truth was still bitter. No one could accept it freely and whole-heartedly.

She felt her tears fell to her stained face. She gasped for air for she couldn't take this kind of losing someone you love, someone you hold on to.

"Ron…"

"Run, Hermione… Run."

Her eyes widened, "No!" The redhead lion untangled himself away from Hermione, wearing the 'it-will-all-be-okay' expression. Hermione protested, gripping his arms tightly. She wanted to die with him. She wanted to do that for him. But Ron had the male strength. He pushed her away… away from him.

She saw him smiling. She saw his loving eyes and his cheery cheeks. He looked like the First Year Ron, the boy who she had loved. He remembered him there. He remembered his Ron.

Until…

Nagini bit Ronald Weasley. The serpent dragged him to the rocky floor. There was an unforgettable impact then, Hermione saw her brave Gryffindor bled. Nagini didn't stop attacking him until she saw his wounded and bleeding body being swept to an undesirable distance.

There was Ron, lying motionless like he was…

Dead.

"RON!" she was screaming but the redhead didn't respond. He stayed still, bleeding.

It was the end.

It was her end.

She couldn't take the scene she was seeing. Ron couldn't be dead. He just…

She felt her heart shattered into million pieces. Her world vanished with that serpent's almost millisecond movement. She couldn't believe it. She felt her body get numbed but she was sure she was crying deeply and mourning. That was so much for her. Why did she need to see such grieving sight?

But most of all, she felt anger.

The fire in her heart rose up uncontrollably. There must be someone…just someone…to pay for Ron's dead. She couldn't kill the serpent (given) so her brain told her about a certain long-haired Malfoy. Yes, he was. He was the root of all those tragedies. If he didn't come… if he didn't kill Neville, everything would be okay. Neville would save them and it would spare the life of her dear Ron. But that evil Death Eater remained evil… What would you expect?

Hermione spotted Lucius. He was mockingly laughing at her and at the dying Hogwarts…

She found herself lifted her wand… eyes on her target…

Nagini dragged its attention to the ginger-head Gryffindor…

Hermione didn't care about the serpent anymore. Her eyes were fixed on the white blond man…

She just wanted that shot… that fruitless revenge…

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

There was a striking green light…

Then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

CHOOSING HIM AND THEN

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**CHAPTER ONE: Deaths, Red Stone, and Train**

"_Run… Hermione, run!"_

"_NOOOO!"_

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

Hermione's eyes snapped open. She rose from the unfamiliar bed, sat uncomfortably and gasped for air. She breathed heavily and it seemed that the oxygen in the room (not hers) was not enough.

Nightmare. A very bad nightmare.

Her head throbbed. She rubbed it to ease the great pain. There was something in her mind that she wanted to forget but it kept on coming back, breaking the walls which she had already built when she decided to die. What was it? What was…

_Ron was dead._

She stopped and then, she felt salty water pouring out from her blood shot eyes. Once again, the heavy burden in her heart was pulling her to the greatest pain. She was going down. It was so much for her.

'I'm not dead?' she realized abruptly, touching her face and her arms. When she was certain that she was alive, she scanned the room. It was small and dark. The curtain on the single large window was close. The room was old and messy. She could see the walls and furniture in their ancient condition with added spider webs on the few dark corners. Fortunately, the bed was neat and clean after all.

'Knock! Knock! Knock!' Hermione's trembling eyes turned to the old door in front of her. She didn't know what to do because she really didn't know the person behind her salvation. But the fact that she casted the death spell to Ron's murderer, ignoring the hungry Nagini, she knew that she would die there. She had already accepted her death, right? So why was she scared? She brushed off the thought and tried to respond, "C-come in…" Her voice, even to her own ears, was broken and husky. The already open door swung and revealed a pale blonde veela. She was none other than, Fleur Delacour-Weasley.

Fleur hesitantly entered the room with calculated movements. She tried to smile while sitting on the side of the bed. Hermione could see the wrinkles and dark shade around her eyes. She was also depressed, maybe, because of the war. War always makes people look old.

Hermione tried to reply her with another smile but she was betrayed with her own numb lips. Instead, she found herself crying once again. She covered her mouth to silent herself. Somehow, she knew she have to be brave at least in front of a beautiful woman. She was still a Gryffindor. She had to be strong even if it means lying to her own self.

"Are you okay?" asked Fleur. Her voice was soft and too careful to not break the already broken Hermione. "I heard you woke up that's why I entered."

Hermione nodded, "I-I am…" she thought for a second, "…not okay." She closed her eyes tightly to prevent her tears from escaping out of her eyes. "I-I-I am so sorry. I'm so sorry…"

"Why?" Fleur shifted nearer to her and tapped her back lightly.

"I'm worrying you…"

"It's Ron, right?" Fleur's voice was serious. Hermione looked at her and she noticed that the veela's messy blonde hair was no longer shiny and bright. She couldn't even recognize her as a half-fairy woman.

Hermione slowly nodded. Fleur hugged her tightly and the Gryffindor witch responded. Fleur rubbed Hermione's back as if she was her little sister while Hermione sobbed uncontrollably on her shoulder. "It's okay… It's okay… release it. Everybody misses him. He was a great friend, brother, and son."

"Fleur… Ron is dead. He's dead…" Hermione was speaking swiftly. "Lucius killed him… Neville was also killed… oh my, blood, green… FLEUR, I KILLED LUCIUS!" She was greatly shaking against Fleur.

They were like that for several minutes. Fleur released Hermione when she felt she was calm enough to sit. The veela offered her tea and the brown-haired girl accepted it warmly. After several comfortable silences, the bright witch couldn't help but ask, "So what now, Fleur? What happened to the war?"

Fleur looked at her intently. She breathed deeply then, replied her, "We lost. Hermione… I think you're not ready to know this –"

"I want to know!" Hermione demanded, placing the empty cup of tea on the dusty table beside the bed.

The blonde woman was stunned. "Well, the Dark Lord won. Harry is dead… He had successfully hit Voldemort but still the Dark Lord was immortal and casted the death spell back to Harry." Hermione was silent but her tears were madly flowing. She wanted to break out again but she needed to know more from Fleur.

"We fought to the very end but we failed. Voldemort claimed Hogwarts and the Ministry. Then, he ordered his Death Eaters to kill all of the rebels. There are lots of deaths," continued Fleur.

"Deaths of whom?" Hermione desperately asked.

"Students from Hogwarts, friends, and professors – McGonagall is missing. Most of the members of the Order died. Some were captives, being tortured to extract some information – they want the hiding places of the fugitives. Only Kingsley is the only one who is confirmed alive and out of the Ministry's grasp. He's hiding somewhere. Voldemort summoned all his men to search for us. Us, Hermione, that's why we're here. This is my family's hidden place. It is safe but it is just for now."

"Your family…"

"They are…" Fleur wiped her tears by the back of her thin hand. "…Mom and dad were captured and so Gabrielle. They are being tortured as well…" And torture means Dementors and Crucios.

Again, silence ate the room. Hermione wanted to change the subject but she found herself asking once again… "Who are alive then?"

"I'm not sure. There's no definite information. We are also clueless."

"Bill?"

"He's alive. He saved you. He's here with me but he went out to search for survivors. Ginny and George too… but we don't know their hiding place. We separated ways."

"And?"

"Luna…"

"And?"

"I don't know. We are completely clueless, Hermione!"

"How about the other Weasleys?"

Fleur gripped the fabric on the bed. "Dead."

Hermione couldn't stop it. Her lips trembled and new tears flowed out of her eyes. She grabbed the blanket which was covering her lower body and covered her face. She screamed. It was extremely loud and even the fabric couldn't even lessen the volume. She wanted to release the pain. She wanted to throw her endless grief back to the unfair world but she knew that it would never be the same. The dead love ones would never come back.

**oooooooo0000000oooooooo**

Fleur's mansion was an isolated building in the middle of what-it-seemed muggle world. It was in a dimmed forest, surrounded by old trees. By the shadows of the greenery and the grey weather above, the mansion was absolutely a perfect hiding place.

Two figures appeared from the distance. Hermione, who was peeking from her room's dusty window, was alarmed and immediately called the busy Delacour-Weasley in the kitchen. Who could actually be sure if those figures weren't Death Eaters?

They readied their wands and came in front of the mansion's only entrance. They positioned themselves behind the old door. Hermione's heart beat fast against her chest, waiting for the figures to reveal more of themselves. She looked at Fleur. The veela's wand was trembling on her hold. Hermione held Fleur's shaking hand for a moment, giving her an assurance that everything would be fine.

"FLEUR!" Bill's voice called.

Fleur's eyes widened. She opened the door immediately and ran to her husband. It was a thoughtless action for Hermione. It could be anyone using Bill's fake voice. She tried to stop Fleur but she was relieved when Bill was indeed the man, carrying another limping figure.

The quarter-veela hugged her husband and gave him a peck on his cheek. Hermione stayed on the door's area and looked at them, a meter from her. They were apparently a happy married couple despite that they were in a depressing war. Hermione felt the same sting on her heart and wondered about her must-be-future with her beloved Ron. If only he wasn't killed. A single tear fell from her right eye but she immediately wiped it away from her face. She had gone through enough.

The couple slowly approached Hermione while supporting the limping figure. Another survivor. Hermione wanted to withdraw a smile and greet Bill when she noticed that the weak woman he was carrying was a professor from Hogwarts.

She hadn't seen her that weak – that weak with blood on her dress and wounded body. Minerva McGonagall.

"Professor," the bright witch gasped.

"Hermione, you're awake!" Bill managed to say while entering the manor.

"What happened to her?" Hermione asked. Her thoughts were running like mad river. She had too many questions in her mind. McGonagall…

"She had escaped the torture chamber and Death Eaters' attack. She called for help and I responded…" Bill replied, placing the professor's weak body on one of the empty room's bed.

"Blood!" Fleur snapped when they had finished laying McGonagall's old body on the bed. "She has to be aided immediately." The veela went out of the room with a dashing speed. She went to the kitchen and took some water. She was going to make a potion.

Bill was about to say something when McGonagall's husky voice came. "Her...Her –" The scarred wizard looked at the brown-haired Gryffindor beside the bed.

"I think she wants to talk to you, Hermione. She'd been murmuring your name during our travel," Bill said, trying to cast a smile. Then, he stood upright and was going to leave the room.

"Bill?" Hermione's questioning voice came.

"I prefer you to be alone. She said that it's yours and hers matters." Hermione gave him an approving nod before he had completely left the room and closed the door.

Hermione took a chair and placed it beside the bed. She sat on it and tried to find a comfortable position. She failed. McGonagall's weak condition was sickening her. She had never imagined that that old but strong professor would be so helpless. Her black dress was torn and was stained with blood. Her face was pale and her eyes were white grey as if she was blind. Blind?

"Professor?" she asked, waving a hand in front of the old lady's face. McGonagall's eyes didn't respond. She was totally blind. Hermione found herself crying once again. Dark spells did that to her. She couldn't imagine how many tortures she had gone through. _She was dying…_

"Her-Hermione…" McGonagall's head turned to her. Her pale lips trembled.

"Yes…" Hermione said with a steady voice. McGonagall's thin hand reached under her blood-stained robe and revealed a red stone. Hermione recognized the stone. It was… "Sorcerer's stone!" she gasped, transferring her eyes from the stone to the grey-haired professor.

"N-No, Hermione…" McGonagall shook her head slowly. "This…T-this is a different stone. Dumbledore made this."

Hermione was more confused, "Dumbledore? Why? What is it?"

"This stone is his back up plan." The Gryffindor wondered if McGonagall knew about Dumbledore's plan from the very start but she noticed that all McGonagall's knew was the stone itself, based upon the words she had just uttered. Her knowledge only resided in the stone's boundaries. "He said that I have to give it to a worthy witch or wizard if the situation becomes worst. Hermione," McGongall tried to reach and give the object to her, blindly. Hermione softly took her hand and squeezed it with the red stone. The grey woman smiled. "Hermione, I want you to take this and decide…"

"Decide? What's this, professor?"

"It's a resurrecting stone… It can resurrect a person who died, completely…"

Hermione's brows knitted, "Professor, there's no such thing as resurrecting a dead person from his grave… well, if and only, he has still lingering souls on earth… Aside from that excuse, there's no such magic!"

"D-Dumbledore found a way… He dealt with 'time'. It uses the dead person's existence in his past life and resurrects him with it. Time is a mysterious element. It contains dimensions and unseen and unfelt magic. He had discovered it and made the stone with the same process of Flamel's sorcerer's stone. That's why it looks like it. This stone can only resurrect one person. After it, it will disappear forever… There will be some consequences after the resurrection but I don't know what they are. This stone is untested but Dumbledore assured that this works safely…" McGonagall raised her hand and covered Hermione's on the stone. "Hermione, you're the only person I know that can decide fairly. You are the brightest witch of this generation. You have already proven yourself as a witty witch. Now, we have… we have so many people we loved so much that we want them here with us again… I thought about using this to resurrect Dumbledore, himself, but he said and warned me to use it for some other means. I know that he was talking about the prophesized boy's life. This is Dumbledore's back up plan for Harry…" McGonagall's hand tightened on the Gryffindor's. "I know that you have already lost so many loved ones in this nonsense war. I can't blame you for thinking to resurrect other life. I understand…"

Hermione looked at the grey old woman with teary eyes. McGonagall knew that she was thinking about a certain redhead guy instead of a raven-haired one. The Hogwarts professor smiled at her, "Now, it's up to you, my dear witch, who will you choose?"

Hermione wanted to say something but she found herself speechless. "I-I'm sorry, I can't decide…" Hermione's eyes were watery. Ron or Harry? Harry or Ron? Her love or her best friend? Her very hope or the very hope of the wizarding world? Her happiness or the next generation's future?

"Take your time…" McGonagall smiled weakly while tapping Hermione's hand. "It's really…" her voice was descending. Death was eating her, "It's really my honor to be a professor of Hogwarts and teach fine witches and wizards like you…" Her smile broke. Then, the Gryffindor Headmistress lay still, motionless. Her hand on Hermione's softened and got numbed.

Dead.

Once again, Hermione sobbed uncontrollably. Her voice echoed throughout the room. A thunderclap was heard outside. It was raining. It appeared as if the heavens had also grieved with the confused witch.

'What am I going to do? What am I going to do?'

**oooooooo0000000oooooooo**

Hermione was staring at McGonall's gravestone which Bill Weasley had dug behind the manor. She was standing in front of it in hours like a statue with blank eyes.

It was raining.

Hermione was letting the little droplets fell from the grey sky to her unmovable body. Her clothes were wet. Her hair turned dark. Her tears weren't evident with her wet face. She was still confused. For the first time, the brightest witch didn't know what to do.

Realizing that she was standing there in two hours, she finally shifted her eyes from the grave to the little piece of paper she had found inside McGonagall's robe. It was a crumpled paper which was stained with the professor's blood. However, the letters on it were readable enough. It was Dumbledore's handwriting. He listed three things: _young heart, fair mind, and love_. Hermione guessed that those things were the requirements to be able to use the red stone. McGonagall failed to have the first requirement: young heart. That's the reason why she couldn't use it to revive Harry, herself. A person with love wasn't hard to find. The Headmistress' only mission was to find a witch with a fair mind. Unfortunately, McGonagall thought about a certain bushy-haired Gryffindor. Hermione Granger.

Hermione closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. It would be a hard decision.

It was time for her to return to the Delacour's hidden mansion.

**oooooooo0000000oooooooooo**

"NOOOOO!" Fleur's scream filled the four corners of the mansion. Something in the veela's voice made Hermione in panic. Hermione rushed towards the door and opened it. She searched for the source of the voice and found the married couple in the dark living room.

Fleur was sitting on the floor, trembling and crying. Her one hand was clutching her chest while the other one was gripping a letter. She was breathing so hard like it was the end of her very life. She was sobbing eternally. Hermione hadn't seen her in that state before. Again, she saw other's weakness. Bill, however, was supporting his wife. He was talking to Fleur with his convincing tone. Something bad happened.

"What happened?" Hermione finally asked.

The blonde and the redhead looked at her. "H-Her… Hermione…" Fleur sobbed. "Gab-Gabrielle is… Oh, my Hermione! SHE'S DEAD. GAB IS DEAD!" Hermione felt so sorry for her. That time, Fleur was on the same floor. She lost someone she loved.

Hermione sat beside the grieving veela and tried to comfort her but it seemed that the combined force of the two Gryffindors couldn't even stop her. Then, Hermione saw Fleur's eyes widened as if she had thought a brilliant idea after the unacceptable death of her little sister.

"You have that resurrecting red stone, right?" Once again, Hermione was surprised. So, Fleur had heard it – no, saw her and McGonagall. She couldn't say 'red' without seeing its full features.

She didn't know what to say. Fleur's tone had the slightest sign of madness. No – she was desperate. "Y-Yes…" she managed to reply while standing up and stepping back away from her.

"It can revive Gabrielle, right?" Fleur's eyes were red and dark.

Hermione knew what was on the veela's mind. She shook her head, "N-No, Fleur. I can't use it to her. This is for other things…"

The blonde's brows knitted. "For what, Hermione? For whom?" she stood and shouted, "FOR RON? TO MAKE YOURSELF HAPPY? THAT'S SELFISHNESS!

Bill was confused. He was transferring his eyes from his wife to his brother's girlfriend. "W-What are you saying?" he asked, putting himself in between them.

"BILL, SHE HAS A STONE FROM MCGONAGALL WHICH CAN BRING BACK GAB!" Fleur gripped her husband's sleeve. "BILL, HELP ME GET IT! I WANT GAB BACK. I WANT MY SISTER BACK!" She was mad.

For a moment, the Weasley looked at his wife, evaluating. Hermione was panicking and was thinking if she was going to run out of the room or stay. She was wishing for Bill to not side his veela wife.

At last, Bill grabbed his Fleur and hugged her, "Fleur, I can't do that…" Hermione was relieved while Fleur was protesting and punching her husband with her weak hands.

"WHY? WHY? WHY?"

"She won't use it for Ron," Bill said, hushing Fleur with his rough yet soft hand, rubbing his wife's hair. Hermione was moved. 'Not Ron?' "It's certainly for Harry. McGonagall gave it to Hermione to revive Harry," Bill continued then, he spoke to the Gryffindor witch. "Am I right?" Hermione was stunned. She was speechless. "Then, this is good news!" without even waiting for a sure reply, the scarred wizard turned his head back to his calming blonde wife. "We still have hope, Fleur. Gab's death won't be worthless. We'll fight for her."

Fleur's crying subsided. Her rough breathing was steadying. Somehow, Bill's unusually comforting words calmed Fleur. "S-Sorry…" the veela apologized while still in her husband's arms. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. Sorry for peeking through the door and for that… I was just shocked. Gab… Gabrielle…" she cried again but this time, she was more composed.

Hermione just nodded to show them that she understood. She stayed still. She watched as Bill sat Fleur on the couch and continued hugging her. Bill was a caring husband. It was an undoubted fact behind his strong appearance.

When Hermione finally realized that she must go out of the room, she bid goodbye and closed the door to the living room behind her. Let the Delacour-Weasley mourn.

**oooooooo0000000oooooooooo**

The rain had stopped and finally left the light-grey sky calm. Hermione was under an old tree's shelter at the mansion's backyard. She was sitting between two big roots. In front of her was a lake. It was a clear steady water body. The view was keeping her in serenity.

She was thinking, deeply thinking.

Fleur, after what Bill had said to her, had sacrificed her desire to revive Gabrielle for Harry's resurrection. Gabrielle was Fleur's life. She loved her. She loved her little sister just like Hermione loved Ron. Was that enough for her to sacrifice her desire to be happy once again with Ron? Was that selfishness? Foolishness? Wait, the brightest witch being a fool? Yes, maybe. Love can make everyone a fool. Love is a magic word and at the same time, disastrous.

She pulled out the stone from her jacket and examined it. It was, indeed, the Sorcerer's stone's identical.

She was too focused on the stone when she noticed _black smokes_ being reflected by the lake before her. Two black smokes came and wounded the grey sky. Another three arrived. They were taking the route towards the mansion. Hermione's eyes widened. They had been spotted.

"BILL! FLEUR!" she screamed. She stood automatically. Her entire body was trembling, panicking – the same feeling she had felt the last time when the Death Eaters were chasing her, Ron, and Harry. She didn't know what to do, how to act. Death Eaters were coming. They were bloody near. Again, she feared death. She feared for Bill, for Fleur, for herself.

But she was too late. She stopped on her tracks when she saw Bill and Fleur were fighting five – no – ten Death Eaters. She withdrew her wand and shot one of the Dark Lord's men. The men in black cloaks turned to her direction. Bill shouted," No, Hermione… RUN!"

Damn! She forgot about the stone. If they happen to capture her, her very hope would end to nothing. 'But what about Fleur and Bill?'

"RUN! RUN!" the married couple incessantly shouted while still fighting the obviously numbered Death Eaters. They wanted her to leave them.

Green and red jets of lights were emitted from their wands.

Hermione jumped out of her position as four Death Eaters ran towards her. The brown-haired witch worked with her adrenaline and went to the forest behind the mansion, leaving her two friends who would surely be captured by the wizards in dark cloaks. She ran as fast as her feet could do. She was barely breathing. She was running for her life and for the stone. She couldn't even hear the rustle of the dried leaves under their running feet. All she knew was those Death Eaters were so near. She had to think…

Hermione desperately shot them behind without really trying to aim for a hit. She just tried. Of course, she failed. She was replied with four green lights. Luckily, she had avoided those four. There would be no second chance… 'So, what now?' she asked herself. She looked at the stone on her hand then, to her unknown path inside the dimmed forest. Red Stone. Endless path. Stone. Path.

It was time…BUT, 'How am I going to use this?!' Hermione shouted inside her head. BAM! Another spell of green light. They missed Hermione as she turned left.

'Think! Think! Think!' Then, she realized the reason behind why McGonagall hadn't left her with anything. 'Because, it's a simple thing… THINK WITH YOUNG HEART, FAIR MIND, AND LOVE!'

She held the stone tightly and closed her eyes. She was running while thinking about HIM. If she failed, she would end with nothing. If she succeeded, she would resurrect HIM and she would die happy.

She thought about him… She thought about those happy days… those young adventures…

One of the Death Eater had a clear shot of her. He casted a death spell. Green light was directly going towards Hermione but it had never hit her. She was engulfed by a blinding white light…

She disappeared.

**oooooooo0000000oooooooooo**

Hermione's eyes snapped open and realized that she hadn't died. 'Not dead?' she asked while checking her complete body. 'No, not even a single injury. So the stone had saved me also… Wait…' she collected herself and focused on where she was. She was sitting on one of the London subway trains' seats. She was with one seatmate on the other side. There were few people riding on the train. 'Am I dreaming?' she pinched her own cheek to test it herself. She felt pain. 'Real. So, the stone is effective.' Still confused and had many unanswered questions, she sighed and mentally celebrated. Tears fell from her eyes, 'So, he's been resurrected?' She wasn't sure.

Hermione wiped her tears rapidly by the back of her hand. She didn't want to be weird and suspicious around those few muggles. In any way, she had to be sure and checked if she was totally successful. She had to find him.

The brave Gryffindor leaned her back on the soft seat. She breathed deeply. She scanned the people inside the train. Her far seatmate was sleeping with her earphones. The other one was reading a newspaper while standing beside the door. Two people were talking to each other, far from her. Some were seating quietly, waiting. And sitting on one of the end seats was an isolated raven head man, reading a thick book. His face was so familiar with Hermione especially his jaw and his green eyes behind his round glasses…

'Harry?!' she gasped.

**(A/N: Sorry for my grammar.)**


	3. Chapter 3

CHOOSING HIM AND THEN

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**CHAPTER TWO:**

Hermione wasn't imagining things. She was seeing his dead best friend, sitting on the end seat. He was the same Harry Potter, wearing his glasses and reading an unknown thick book – the same Harry – alive and real. He was wearing his usual blue shirt under his red jacket. His book was on his lap and his green eyes were fixed on it.

Hermione slowly rose from her seat, ignoring the slight rocking of the moving train. She couldn't help it. She was crying silently. She knew that some people in the train were looking at her. She didn't mind. She just wanted to hug Harry and say how she much misses him.

But the train suddenly stopped. Luckily, Hermione was able to hold on to one of the train's handle and balance herself. The doors opened. Harry immediately stood from his seat and flung his bag on his shoulder. Without looking at the teary Hermione, Harry got outside of the train.

Seeing his best friend getting out of her sight, Hermione rushed to find him in the subway station but a crowd of busy people, entering the train, greeted her. She couldn't lift her head to look for Harry. "Harry! Harry! Harry!" she shouted. When she had finally escaped the crowd, she desperately looked for him over countless muggles. She looked for a raven-head guy, 'Damn, too many raven-heads!' The Gryffindor witch panicked and cried. 'Now, what?' All what she wanted was to see him once again. "Harry, where are you?" she whispered while wiping the overflowing tears from her dirty face."

"Miss, are you okay?" someone asked her behind. That voice was very familiar to Hermione. It was Harry's. She swiftly turned and saw the same raven-haired wizard inside the train earlier. His green eyes were looking directly at her, worrying. "Here…" Harry awkwardly unzipped his back and revealed a handkerchief. Typical Harry Potter…

Hermione, for Harry's surprise, flung her arms around Harry's neck, crying. The boy needed to step backward to balance himself after the impact of Hermione's body against him. "Oh, Harry… H-Harry…" Hermione cried. "YOU'RE ALIVE! YOU TRULY ARE ALIVE…" She lifted her head and scanned his confused face. "Harry, you don't know how happy I am seeing you again… Thanks, Merlin!" Then, again, she hugged him tightly.

"M-Miss…"

"Harry, most of our friends died… the Dark Lord have succeeded and… Oh my, Harry, we're hopeless!"

"Miss…"

"But now you're here. We can take rev –"

"MISS!" Harry shouted. He untangled himself away from the brown-haired witch's arms. Hermione, on the other hand, was equally confused. It was very un-Harry like behavior. "I'm so sorry but I think you've mistaken me for someone else."

Hermione's brows met, "No. You're Harry. I am certain."

"I'm Harry, yes, but I am certainly not the guy you're talking about. I don't know who you are. I just saw you there crying and tried to offer you a handkerchief…" The raven guy put his bag on his shoulder, ready to leave. "If you don't want this…" he showed her the white piece of fabric. "…I think I have to go."

Awkward silence. Hermione stood still, trying to understand what he had just said. 'Harry doesn't know me… he can't recognize me…'

"Okay," Harry finally said. He looked like he was seeing a weird and mad woman before him. "I think it's a 'no'. I better go now. I have to go home…" he smiled and walked away from her.

Hermione was looking at his retreating back. She remembered McGonagall's words, _"There will be some consequences after the resurrection…"_ The brightest witch concluded that that was one of the consequences. Harry couldn't remember a thing about her, not even a slightest bit about her. Hermione was more afraid that he didn't remember anything about the wizarding world or the second war. 'This is bloody hard.' She considered that matter as her new challenge. She needed to think fast on how to stick beside the know-nothing Harry without being weird and creepy. Harry must not avoid her. 'Think, Hermione, or you'll lose him again.' Then, her mind bulb suddenly lit up. She thought of a brilliant idea.

Hermione ran towards him. Hearing her footsteps, the frightened guy sped up his steps until he was running – running away from a mad woman.

"Wait!" Hermione shouted. People's eyes turned to her. Harry didn't look back. "Wait! Here, I'm sorry. I've mistaken you… I'M LOST!"

Harry stopped in the middle of the station. He slowly turned to her, deciding. Hermione walked towards him. He didn't move. "I am new here..." she rapidly thought of an excuse. " – a tourist." 'Damn, that's unbelievable! I'm certainly British.' She looked at Harry's face for any sign of suspicion. There was none. He took the excuse. She sighed. At least, it was sensible enough. "Maybe, it's weird but I lost all my things and I rode the wrong train," she continued. "Now, I don't know where to go. I've mistaken you as my companion. We accidentally separated ways and I don't know how to find him. Please…" She withdrew her begging eyes. "Please, help me."

The guy with round glasses stood still, thinking. "Well," he broke the silence, "o-okay…"

Hermione's face brightened, "Okay? Okay what?"

"Okay, I'll help you."

"THANKS!" she jumped and was about to hug Harry when she realized that it would be weird. She pulled her arms back on her side.

"Sorry for that," Harry apologized, tapping his thigh with his fingers and adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, "I thought that you're…"

"Mad?"

"Uhmm… not that much but, you – "

"I know, I know. I must be the one who is apologizing. I acted like a mad and lost woman," she smiled.

"That's pretty acceptable," he smiled back. "By the way, Harry Potter's my name," he lifted his hand to her. Hermione felt so uncomfortable reintroducing herself to her best friend. Setting aside her weird feelings, she accepted his hand and shook it. "Hermione Granger."

**oooooooo0000000oooooooo**

"So where do you come from?" Harry asked while taking the stairs out of the subway station.

"France," Hermione immediately answered. She must be clever this time to make herself more believable. She added, "My mom and dad are British. They live in France."

"Oh," Harry took that lie once again. "So, this companion of yours, his name's –"

"Harry…" Again, she answered as if it was the truth. A great actress – she was always a talented witch. They reached the top of the stairs and Hermione saw the usual London night. People were busy, walking on the lighted streets. The same buildings were standing on their fixed location. LONDON. She looked at the sky to check for black smokes. There was none. The Death Eaters and even Lord Voldemort had no knowledge about Harry's resurrection. Not yet. She sighed.

"Harry what?" the green-eyed wizard asked. They stopped.

Hermione jumped up from her musings, "Uhmmm…" She forgot about the Harry-made-up's surname. She found herself replying, "Weasley." 'What?!' she mentally kicked herself. "Harry Weasley."

Harry nodded. "So, this Harry Weasley is your… boyfriend?"

Hermione didn't know how the curiosity works inside Harry's mind. Well, the great wizard was always curious and she cursed Harry for being like that. He was just making her situation extremely hard. "No. He's a friend," she replied shortly.

They resumed walking on the road. Hermione kept her position behind Harry. She was supposed to be a know-nothing tourist. She pretended to be like that with her professional actress skills.

"So where are we going?" Hermione asked, breaking the silence between them.

"Police station, of course," Harry replied without looking at her.

'Of course, huhh?' Hermione raised an eyebrow. She hated pretending to be an innocent and incapable little girl. She always had the advance knowledge and enough courage to face unusual things. So that helpless Hermione was her absolute polar. "Of, course! Of, course!" she rolled her eyes. Harry looked back at her. She faked a smile.

**oooooooo0000000oooooooo**

"So you were robbed and you lost sight of your boyfriend Harry Weasley?" the policeman asked while writing on his paper.

"No," Hermione replied with little annoyance, "He's not my boyfriend. Harry's not my boyfriend."

The fat policeman looked at her from his paper, "So you were robbed and you lost sight of your 'friend' Harry Weasley?" There was something in the officer's tone that made Hermione more irritated. It appeared as if the policeman didn't believe her – not her story but the word 'friend'.

"Here," Hermione put a finger on the desk, "Me and Harry are having a vacation. He's my friend. I am his friend. Nothing more, nothing less. I can't see anything interesting in that to keep this conversation long." For the first time after Ron's death, the famous know-it-all witch came back to the world. Her voice was in deep British accent. Her eyes were piercing. Harry chuckled a little bit behind her. He was watching the intense interview of the brown-haired woman by the teasing policeman. Hearing him, Hermione shot a 'shut-up' look to Harry. Harry faked a cough and zipped his mouth.

The officer shrugged and closed the folder on his hands, "Okay, we'll see what we can do about your belongings and Harry. We'll find them tomorrow. Is that fine?"

Hermione leaned on her chair, "Absolutely fine, officer."

"Well, good luck. This new friend of yours can provide you a shelter for tonight."

Harry, who was leaning on a near desk, stood up straight, "MY SHELTER?! You're probably kidding, sir. She can't stay with me."

"Well, she can't also stay here in the station. This…" he waved his hand, "This is not a place for a girl…"

Harry thought for a moment and examined the police station. Looking at the men in their works and some busy unattended women, he wasn't certain about the stranger's comfort. He was pretty sure she won't be comfortable with those unfamiliar place and strangers. But why in his place?! He was a stranger too.

The fate must be favoring her. 'This' perfect!' Hermione mentally clapped. "Harry, will you?" she asked, withdrawing her pretty brown eyes. She needed to stick with Harry and find a perfect time to tell him the truth. She needed him to trust her. "I don't want to stay here…" she shot a look on the fat policeman.

Again, the officer shrugged, "You look like a respectable guy. Why doubt to have a girl in your place? Are your parents in there or they're strict? An explanation will do for sure. Worry not, boy." He played with his blue pen, rolling it in between his fingers.

Harry finally gave up and sighed, "I am a gentleman, sir. Yes, I'll take good care of her."

Hermione was relieved, "Thank you…" She gave an honest smile.

**oooooooo0000000oooooooo**

Brown-haired and raven-head figures were, once again, back on the streets of London. People were passing by, busy on their own stuffs. Harry was leading Hermione towards to who-knows-where.

"Where are we going?" she asked the same question once more just to break the silence between them.

"To my flat," he replied, slightly looking at her.

"You're alone there?" she was wondering if that new Harry had magic-parents.

"Yes." He paused and turned to her. The city lights were being reflected by his glasses. His green eyes were unseen. "I'll do nothing bad to you. I promise." He smiled.

Harry's smile was one of a kind. It gave her an equal assurance of 'everything will be fine'. She thought about the hopeless war and the deaths after the Dark Lord's success. She hoped so. Hermione lifted her hand and punched Harry on the shoulder lightly. "I know, Harry. I know."

"You know? We just met…" His smile was still there.

She grinned, "Let's just say that I am sensing your gentleman aura."

"Really? Well, that's brilliant, Hermione!" He adjusted his bag's strap on his shoulder. "Let's go."

**oooooooo0000000oooooooo**

Harry's place was small but had two rooms. The one was Harry's and the other one was a guest room. His place was quite messy but organized enough as if it was left unclean because the owner of the flat wasn't there.

"Sorry about the mess," he apologized, placing his bag on an old sofa with books and some papers.

"It's okay." Hermione was scanning the whole place. The color of the wallpapers and the ceiling were old and weren't replaced for a long time. There were also some sets of ancient furniture around. "You're new here?"

"Yep, I just recently moved," he replied while trying to clean up some displaced things on his table. "This flat is near to my job's place."

"Job?" she wondered.

"Yes, job. I am working in a café, but, sometimes, I part-time work as a pizza delivery boy. I do that to support myself and my studies."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. It looked like as if the resurrected Harry had a real normal life. She continued examining the place until she found two picture frames on a low bookshelf. She took and studied it. On the picture was little Harry with twenty children and a nun sitting in two rows. It was an aged picture. Hermione wiped the dust on the glass. The picture was real. The new Harry had a 'new' normal life.

"I am an orphan," Harry said behind her. She almost jumped.

"Mind if I ask you about your parents?" She was asking about his past parents, James and Lily.

"No, not a problem," he shrugged. "I have no idea though. The nuns just saw me in front of their gate. They took good care of me. It just happened that nobody was interested so I ended up as an individual."

Hermione couldn't say a thing. She nodded. She took the other frame. There was, again, Harry with a fat cheery man beside him.

"That's Bert. He's my awesome manager in the café."

Hermione nodded again. The situation was getting hard for her. 'How am I going to say to this Harry that he's a wizard, and he died, and was resurrected, and this 'new' life of his is a big lie?' She was stuck, looking at the frame.

"Something's wrong?" Harry put a hand on her shoulder.

Pulling herself out of her running thoughts, Hermione shook her head, "Fine. Always fine, Harry." She forced a smile.

"Good," he smiled back. "This is your room." He opened a door on the right side part of his flat and revealed a dark room. "It's clean. I haven't used this since the day I moved here."

"That's fine," Hermione said, still thinking. She went to the door and entered.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Of course!" she said, nodding.

"If you need anything else, just ask…"

Awkward silence. Harry mentally slapped his face. He forgot about the Granger's clothes. She was wearing her jeans and shirt the whole day and she had nothing left with her.

"You can use my pajamas," he suggested.

Hermione looked at him for a moment then, said, "Thank you." She was still comfortable with Harry. Wearing his clothes wasn't a big thing at all, was it?

Harry gave her another smile and turned the lights on. When, Harry had finally closed the door. Hermione broke and leaned on the door. It was getting hard for her. The perfect time of saying the magic words to him was so far away and almost impossible. She didn't know how to open it and if she happened to introduce the topic, she couldn't take saying that his life was a lie.

'What am I going to do? What now?!' She panicked. She knew that her time was very thin. The Dark Lord would soon know Harry's existence. She must tell Harry before the Dark Lord learned about him and kill him once again. 'I can do this!' she told herself with determination. 'You can do this, Hermione. You can't fail this time.'


End file.
